


to be in the service of others

by WildeChild17



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternative Universe - FBI, Angst, Emotional Baggage, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Joshua Faraday Being a Little Shit, Joshua Faraday is Smart, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Minor Violence, Slow Burn, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29831457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildeChild17/pseuds/WildeChild17
Summary: A hundred and forty years later, the seven live again, and somehow they're all still fighting crime.aka, the Criminal Minds/FBI AU nobody asked for but I'm doing anyways.
Relationships: Emma Cullen & Teddy Q, Emma Cullen/Matthew Cullen, Goodnight Robicheaux/Billy Rocks, Joshua Faraday & Red Harvest, Joshua Faraday/Vasquez, Red Harvest & Vasquez, Red Harvest/Teddy Q
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

_"So much of what we do is ephemeral and quickly forgotten, even by ourselves, so it's gratifying to have something you have done linger in people's memories." -_ John Williams

* * *

“Honestly, what are you so worried about, Josh? You’ve faced off guys waving AK-47’s in your face, disarmed bombs at the last possible second, taken down terrorist cells, and went through eight months of physical therapy just to walk again. You’ve a resume a mile long that any man in your position would be envious of,”

Joshua “Josh” Faraday sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, his other arm clutching a box to his side, “I don’t know, Allie, maybe it’s because I’ve worked with these people before in another time and another place? I mean, c’mon, it’s been almost two centuries since the last time I saw these people, and years since I’ve thought about them.”

He was glad he was alone in the elevator, lest he risk federal agents giving him a side glance over talking like a crazy person. Because honestly, why would someone be talking about last seeing a person two centuries earlier if they weren’t crazy?

The answer: reincarnation, because it apparently was fucking real and existed.

“What if they expect me to be like I was back then and I’m not?” Joshua asked, “A drunken, gambling gunslinger?”

“If they expect you to be like that then you wouldn’t have been asked to join the BAU in the first place,” Alena Faraday shot back, and Joshua could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “Now, you, my dear brother, are going to be great. I, on the other hand, start a twenty-four-hour shift in exactly one hour and I need to get a move on. Besides, it’s your first day. What could possibly happen?”

“Don’t say that!”

But the line clicked, signaling Alena had hung up. Joshua sighed a heavy sigh, and pulled his phone from his ear, slipping it into an inner pocket of his leather jacket. He bent down and curled his free hand around the straps of his duffel, the ‘go-bag’ that the director chief of the BAU, Emma Cullen herself, had told him to go ahead and bring to the offices and have at the ready, right as the elevator came to a halt and the doors dinged open on the twelfth floor.

Joshua sighed and started to step out of the elevator, when he suddenly realized just who the group was that was stepping in, and he whipped around, “Chisolm!”

“What?” Sam Chisolm looked up from a file in his hand, and seven other heads snapped up to stare at Joshua, “Faraday! What are you—”

“Huh, guess the Joan of Arc didn’t tell you,” Joshua mused out loud, holding the elevator door. “I’m the most recent hire for your team.”

“Right…” Sam blinked, and then grimaced, “She mentioned that you might be starting this week.”

“You knew Joshua was going to show up here and you didn’t tell us, Sam?” Goodnight clicked his tongue and shook his head, “You gave me and Jack fair warning before the others showed up.”

“It’s been a long weekend, Goody,” Sam shot back, and met Joshua’s eyes. “You picked a hell of a first day, Faraday. We’re actually leaving for a case right now, so I guess we’ll have to fill you in later.”

“Or you could fill me in now,” Joshua offered. “I have my go-bag right here.” Then before Sam could say no, Joshua was turning as another agent walked by, dropping his box full of paperwork and miscellaneous items into the man’s arms, “Hey, stash that somewhere for me, would you, man? Thank you.”

Then, he slid into the elevator, giving Chisolm a sideways glance as he stepped into place beside the man, “I’m ready to work.”

* * *

“Okay, so we’ve got three murders with three different MO’s and a wide variety of victims, and the only common factor is a photograph left behind for the cops to find,” Sam said, leaning against the side of one of the jet’s seats.

“And all three weapons were left at the scene; strangulation by rope, headshot with a standard revolver, and the most recent victim had his throat slit with the knife found not too far from the body,” Goody mused.

“Could be whoever’s committing these crimes is experimenting with different methods, trying to find himself in the way he kills,” Billy commented.

“That doesn’t explain the variety in his victims though,” Vasquez spoke up. “Two women and a man, and the only thing that we can say that links them is their race—that and the fact that at each crime scene our killer leaves a photo of his previous victim.”

Sam leaned forward, clicking a key on the laptop facing him sitting on the table between Billy and Goody and Vasquez and Red, “Jaqueline, you there?”

“Present and accounted for, sir!” A perky voice replied, and Joshua glanced up from the papers in his lap to look at the screen; a young woman with dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes greeted him, “And before you ask, yes, I have been digging into the victims’ lives and they are completely on opposite ends of the scale. Our most recent victim, Dr. Robert Greene was a psychical therapist and he mainly specialized in helping veterans getting back on their feet. He was found dead in his personal study. Married, and his wife had taken the two kids out of town for the weekend, but she’s since been called and they’re on their way back. They’ll be at the police station by the time you land.

“Now, the second victim, Alyssa Scarlett, she was unmarried, worked as a criminal defense lawyer, and was killed in her own home. There was no signs of break in and her home security system had been set and was armed,” Jaqueline said.

“Which suggests she knew our killer but felt safe enough to let them in,” Jack Horne’s voice was thoughtful, and Joshua glanced up towards the couch across from him to give the bear of a man a considering look. Jack shuffled a few of the papers in his hands, and Joshua caught sight of a gold band on the man’s right hand, the sight causing Joshua to wonder if Jack had a family this life or if history might have repeated itself.

Given the way Jack carried himself, without any shadows in his eyes, Joshua was willing to bet no. The same with went with Chisolm.

“And our first victim, Amy White, she was killed at the local conservatory following an orchestra recital, found hanging from the catwalks, though there were signs of a struggle in her room backstage. Autopsy reports say that her neck was snapped before she was strung up,” Jaqueline paused, expression turning sad. “Poor girl. She was only twenty.”

“Dr. Greene was thirty-five and Alyssa was twenty-eight. Not exactly a close age range,” Teddy Q spoke up, the first thing he’d said since they had started reviewing the case. He was sitting Joshua’s right, in view of the camera on the laptop, “Jackie, did the victims have any connection to each other?”

“Right now, that is a negative, but you know me sweet sugar, I will go honey badger and dig until I find something of interest,” Jaqueline replied. Then, she leaned forward in her seat, eyes brightening, “By the way, Sam, did we get a new team member? Anderson stopped by earlier, dropped off a box of stuff for a new agent saying that the new guy had ducked into the elevator with you guys before he could say anything.”

“I—” Sam began, but was cut off by Jaqueline continuing.

“Gotta say, judging from the pictures in this box, he knows how to pick his women. His wife sure looks like a firecracker,” Jaqueline continued, and Joshua earned curious looks from it.

Joshua sighed and leaned across Teddy, so he was in Jaqueline’s line of sight. He waved a hand, “Hi. Joshua Faraday. That redheaded firecracker in the photo that was in a box of _personal belongings_ , is actually my sister.”

Jaqueline didn’t look at all ashamed of snooping, though Sam let out a weary sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Oh. Cool. Is she single?” Jaqueline asked. Joshua noted that, from his seat by the window, Goodnight cast his gaze heavenward, looking exasperated.

“Married and a kid on the way,” Joshua deadpanned. “And no, they wouldn’t be interesting in a threesome.”

Jaqueline made a noise like a dying mouse, rushed out a quick “Well I’m gonna get to work, I’ll talk to you guys later”, and ended the video call. The screen went black, and Red leaned forward to shut the laptop closed.

“I… am so sorry for my sister,” Goodnight finally said, giving Joshua an apologetic look. “She’s just…” He made a vague gesture with his hand, “Well, I’m sure you know how siblings are.”

“Jaqueline’s your sister?” Joshua asked, leaning back nonchalantly into his seat.

“Yes,” Goodnight sighed.

“Huh,” Joshua let a moment pass. “That explains why she’s so nosy, then.”

Goodnight spluttered, and a look of amusement crossed Billy’s face as a few chuckles passed through the men. Joshua just fixed Goodnight with an innocent smile.

“Well, what about you, Faraday? What are you capable of?!” Goodnight demanded; eyes narrowed.

Though his smile never flickered, Joshua’s amusement faded, replaced by a cold feeling washing over him. He scrambled for a moment, but then Sam swept in, “Joshua, what do you think about the case? Anything you want to add?”

And just like that, Joshua snapped back to the present, and brought his gaze back down to the papers in his lap, “Our suspect’s probably male, in his late twenties to early thirties and is physically fit. He’d have to be in order to haul over a hundred pounds of dead weight up fifty feet to the conservatory catwalks and take on a man who’s had military combat training. If he managed to get into Scarlett’s house without triggering any fight or flight responses, then he either used a ruse to get inside or was charming enough to lure her into a sense of security.”

“What makes you think it’s only one guy and not a team?” Billy raised an eyebrow.

“A single woman living alone wouldn’t let two strange men into her home at night,” Joshua said, referring to Scarlett’s murder. “And there wouldn’t have been as a big of a mess in the backstage room if there were three people involved in a struggle as opposed to two.”

Billy shrugged, conceding Joshua’s point, but before Joshua could continue, Teddy’s phone pinged. The young man glanced down, “Alright well, local sheriff just go back to me, said that Greene’s wife is back in town and they’ve got her down at the station ready for an interview.”

“We’ll split up when we land,” Sam said. “Teddy, you and I going to the station, we’ll interview the wife and get set up. Jack, you and Red go down to the coroner’s office, see if they got anything new off of the latest victim. Billy, you go to the conservatory, Goody to Alyssa’s, and Vasquez, you and Faraday take the latest scene. We’ll meet back up at the station later.”

* * *

The silence in the car lasted all of fifteen minutes, which was ten minutes longer than Joshua had thought it would last.

“So, where the hell have you been, guero?”

“Hm?” Joshua didn’t take his eyes off his phone, catching up on the text messages that Alena had left him while on the jet, and forming his own scathing reply to send back to her. Her response was as infuriating as it could get.

_You get a chance to show off, stop complaining._

Joshua sighed and slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket, deciding he’d respond when Alena wasn’t being so obnoxious, “What was that _muchacho_?”

He heard Vasquez sigh, and he repeated his question, “Where and how did Emma find you, _guero_? She’s been roping us in one by one for years now and you’re the last one.” He added to himself in Spanish, “ _ **Did you forget about us or something?**_ ”

“Yeah, I figured that based on the fact you all are already a team,” Joshua drawled. “Plus, you got a few extra, that’s nice.” He rolled his eyes and took a gulp of water, “I spent the last five years on the Los Angeles police force, if you really want to know. Worked as an explosives expert while I was in the military.”

Vasquez made a noise, one of vague amusement but also dissatisfaction, “Given the last time you were near explosives, you thought making a career of working with explosives was a good idea?”

Joshua snorted, “Maybe that’s the exact reason I thought being an expert on the subject was a good idea. Besides, I already had experience with explosives when they offered me the job.”

_Wait, shit,_ Joshua’s mouth shut with a click of teeth. _I didn’t mean for that to come out._

But Vasquez’s interest had been piqued, and he turned his head to give Joshua a brief glance. He refocused on the road, “And how’s that, _guero_?” Then, in Spanish, he muttered, “ ** _I highly doubt blowing yourself up counts as experience._** ”

Joshua bit his lower lip, scoffing lightly in amusement. He sighed, leaning back to settle his head against the headrest. After a moment of silence, he reached up to grab the handle over the car door and replied in perfect Spanish, “ ** _It doesn’t. But I showed a skill with it during my training unlike most of my other colleagues._** ”

Vasquez nearly swerved off the road in surprise, but Joshua had already braced himself in the event Vasquez did just that. He waited until Vasquez regained control of the wheel and pulled over to release his grip on the handle and looked expectantly over at Vasquez. For his part, Vasquez put the car in park and pushed his own shades on top of his head to stare at Joshua in bewilderment.

“Before you ask,” Joshua pointed at the other man. “I know Spanish, Korean, French, Chinese, Japanese, and ten other languages. I can also read in seven more.” He paused, and then added in a quiet voice, “I didn’t forget about any of you, Vas, I just…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s complicated.”

Vasquez’s jaw worked, as he tried to formulate a reply, so Joshua took the opening and asked, “Now, didn’t Sam give us a job to do?”

“I—” Vasquez tried, and then let out a huff, “Si, yes, he did.” He gave Joshua a short glare, “We are talking about this later, though.”

Joshua only shrugged as Vasquez pulled back on the road, but he silently hoped that Vasquez would forget all about it.

* * *

Three days passed, with no new leads, until another body dropped. A young woman named Cecelia Orchid was found in the ballroom of the local country club, bludgeoned to death with a candlestick. It was when the team were sitting in the conference room the local PD had provided them to use, throwing ideas back and forth over the victims and possible connections, when the big break came.

Sam was sitting at the head of the table, back to the murder boards when out of the corner of his eye he suddenly saw Joshua’s head snap up to look up at said boards. Curious, Sam tilted his head slightly so he could fix his full attention on the younger man, watching as Joshua’s eyes flickered back and forth over the pictures of the crime scenes. After a few moments, Sam’s curiosity won out.

“Faraday, is there something you want to say?” Sam asked, drawing the others’ attention to their new teammate.

Joshua was silent for a few seconds, before he stood up and asked, “Any of you play board games when you were growing up?”

Sam blinked, not expecting the question.

“What?” Red frowned, “What do you mean?”

“This entire case… we’ve been scratching our heads looking for a clue when the biggest one of all has been staring us in the face,” Joshua said, walking up to the boards. Sam turned in his seat to keep his eyes on him, “Come on. First victim—White, killed in the conservatory with a rope. Second victim—Scarlett, killed in her kitchen with a revolver. Third victim—Greene, killed in his study with a knife. And number four was Orchid, killed by a candlestick in a ballroom.” Joshua turned to the room, giving them an expectant look, “Any of this ringing a bell?”

It was Goody who caught on first, snapping his fingers as his eyes lit up in realization, “The murder mystery board game, Clue! All of the victims had a color of some sort in their names, killed in various rooms of Black Manor with a number of items.”

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!” Joshua gestured at Goodnight.

“So, wait, are we saying that this guy is murdering people based off a game?” Red asked, dubiously.

“It wouldn’t be that simple, though,” Vasquez said. “Getting law enforcement to play a real-life game? There’s gotta be something we’re missing.”

On cue, Goodnight’s phone rang, and the man glanced at the Caller ID before answering, “You’re on speaker Jackie. Did you find anything?”

“My darling brother, would I be calling you if I didn’t? Much as I hate to say it, dear Ms. Orchid was the person I needed to find our missing link between our, now, four victims. It turns out that up until two years ago, she was a therapist. Now, why is this important, you may ask? Because five years ago, the Greene’s were seeing Dr. Orchid for couples therapy, and seven years ago, the White’s were having trouble with Amy acting out, and Alyssa suffered from depression—all three victims had, at one point or another, been a patient of the recently departed Dr. Orchid.”

“You said she was a therapist; why did she stop?” Sam asked.

“Aha, see, that’s the fun part. Apparently, are dear Dr. Orchid had a stalker. At first, it was just your standard stalkerish stuff, you know, pictures and letters and being a general creep, but it eventually elevated to the guy breaking into her home and her offices. Dr. Orchid shut down her practice to keep her patients safe,” Jaqueline said.

“Fun?” Joshua mouthed, eyebrows going to his hairline.

“She’s different,” Vasquez mouthed back, noticing Joshua’s bewilderment.

“Was her stalker ever caught?” Jack questioned.

“Yes he was, and Andrew Carlton is currently serving time for his bad behavior, so unless he can teleport I don’t think he’s your guy,” Jaqueline replied.

“Damn, there goes that lead,” Teddy huffed, sitting back in his chair with a disgruntled frown.

Joshua turned back to the boards, tuning out the others as Jaqueline continued to explain what else she had found; green eyes narrowed, gaze flicking back and forth between the pictures of the victims with a new perspective. They had all seen Dr. Orchid at one point or another in their lives and given how they were killed and who they represented in a board game, someone else had to have known them. Someone, perhaps…

“Jaqueline,” Joshua called over his shoulder. “Is there anyone who was a long-term patient of Dr. Orchid that suddenly stopped seeing her, before she shut down? Someone who fits the profile?”

“Hmm, give me a minute…” Jaqueline mused, the sound of keyboards clicking filling the background.

“What are you thinking?” Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“You go to a therapist, no matter what for, you’re going to build a relationship with them. You’re going to have to get emotional, be honest, and when that someone listens and helps you, you’re going to latch on to that and turn dependent on it,” Joshua explained, keeping his back turned to the room as the memories of his own time in therapy, both for his PTSS and physical therapy, threatened to overwhelm him. He took a deep, calculated breath, and pushed them back to deal with later, “What if one of Orchid’s patients did just that and in their mind that doctor-patient relationship was something more?”

“And it seems our newbie’s right because I’ve got a thirty-three-year-old Ian Blaque who Orchid following the deaths of his parents at age fourteen,” Jaqueline said.

“Was he in the military?” Billy asked.

“Ah… yes. Army, three years, before being medically discharged following his team getting caught in an ambush. He was shot in the knee, had to have surgery and he started seeing Dr. Orchid again for PTSD before he suddenly stopped one year before she shut her practice down,” Jaqueline replied.

“Jackie,” Sam began as the rest of the team stood.

“Way ahead of you, boss man. His address has been sent to your phones,” Jaqueline chirped.

“Thanks Jackie,” Goodnight said, hanging up.

“Good work, Joshua,” Sam addressed the younger man. "Boys, let's roll."

* * *

_So did you get a chance to show off?_

**_I hate you  
Yes._ **

_Were they impressed?_

**_Ended up getting the bad guy on my profile, so. Yeah. I recon so._ **

_How did a board game end up tying into the crime?_

**_Turned out that while Blackpoole was seeing Orchid after his parents died, she used the game to connect with him._ **

_People are weird, criminals even more so._

**_You work in an ER and this surprises you?_ **

_Half the people I see are dumbasses, not weird. I leave that for the interns._

**_Fair enough._ **

Joshua looked up from his phone as Sam slid into the seat across from him. He sat back in his own seat, setting his phone down and ignoring his sister’s reply to his latest message in favor of fixing his attention on the man before him.

“Gotta say, son, I’m impressed with the work you did this week. Wasn’t sure what to expect with you, when Emma told me she’d tracked you down,” Sam said. “Haven’t even had the chance to look over your file yet.”

Joshua laughed, darkly, “Do me a favor and don’t, Chisolm. Ain’t nothing on a few pieces of paper that concerns you.”

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, “That just makes me more curious, son.”

“If you’re dying to know, go ahead and read up about me,” Joshua sighed. “But I’ll save you the chore of wasting your time—I was in the Navy, did some work with the CIA until I decided that wasn’t the fit for me and then I transferred out to LA, joined the LAPD and worked with them for a few years.”

“Until you got shot in the back and had to go through physical therapy,” Sam finished, even though Joshua hadn’t expected that to be brought up.

“Yeah, and I’m fine now,” Joshua’s jaw clenched. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, “If you’re trying to imply I’ll be a weak link to this team—"

“I’m not, and without your insight on this week’s case, we probably would have been spinning our wheels for a few days longer,” Sam said. He tilted his head, giving Joshua an amused look, “I find it kind of funny, Faraday, that last time you were the first one I roped into a team—”

“Only because you bought my horse out from under me, you jackass,” Joshua replied, without much heat.

“But this time, you’re the last one to join us. Where all have you been, Joshua, because you sure weren’t easy to find,” Sam cocked an eyebrow.

Joshua and Sam stared steadily at each other for a long moment, silently sizing each other up. Joshua realized quickly that Sam wasn’t going to let this go, while Sam noted that Joshua was wondering if he could trust Sam enough to say anything.

“… I went into the military, when I turned eighteen,” Joshua began, haltingly. “It’s on my file, that I was in the SEALS for about ten years, up until my country decided they were done with me and cut me loose. Honorable discharge, a few medals here and there, but… not a whole lot to write home about.”

_He did things he’s not proud of,_ Sam read between the lines. _He probably got his hands dirty._

“Then I worked for the CIA for a few years. Desk job, more than anything… found it boring,” Joshua shrugged. “Paperwork, and because of my expertise in explosives and demolitions I was asked to help on a few cases. It was…”

“Boring. You like acting, always being on the move,” Sam grinned at the younger man. “Even back then, I knew that much about you.”

“Yeah,” Joshua chuckled, softly.

“You ever work with Billy? He was in the CIA,” Sam commented.

“Nah, I joined after he moved down to Baton Rogue to work on the police force with Goody,” Joshua shook his head. “I heard a bit about how good of an agent he was. After I quit the CIA, I went out to the west coast, to be near my sister. She… She and I have always been close, and… I applied and got a job with the LAPD, for about four years. I liked the people I worked with, out there, and… I felt like I made a difference, helping people.”

“What division did you work?” Sam asked.

Joshua tapped his fingers on the table between them.

“I worked homicide, before Emma tracked me down,” Sam told him.

“Homicide, first,” Joshua answered, eventually. “Then I was transferred over to sex crimes.” He laughed and shook his head, “Funny. I had seen enough dead bodies both in my time in the military and with homicide, I thought the change might… might do me some good.”

Sam nodded, solemnly, “You never expect the live victims to be the one to rip your guts out. I had a few cases like that, too. You’ll still get them here, too, in the FBI.”

“Great,” Joshua rolled his eyes. “Something to look forward to.”

“I’d guess so,” Sam agreed. He gave the redhead a grin, “We’re happy to have you here, Joshua. It just wasn’t the same without you.”

A flicker of a smile ghosted at Joshua’s lips, “For what it’s worth, Chisolm… I’m glad to be here too.”

“Great,” Sam slapped the table with his palm, twice. He nodded at Joshua’s phone, which had been buzzing on the table for the duration of their conversation, “Tell your sister to stop texting you and to get some rest. She’s expecting, right? She’ll need it.”

Joshua chuckled at that, swiping his phone off the table, “I’ll do that, but she’s a stubborn witch.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Sam stood up. “You get some rest too, son. We still got our reports to get done when we get back to Quantico.”

* * *

The elevator doors dinged open and the head honcho herself stood there, waiting for them.

“Well, I see you lot have already acquainted yourself with our newest member,” Emma Cullen smirked, arms crossed. “Faraday.”

“Modern day Joan of Arc,” Joshua grinned at the woman, unashamed. “Running the show around here just like last time huh?”

“I get to order you boys around, at any rate,” Emma’s smirk turned into a sly grin. She turned her attention to the other men, “You boys go on ahead, get started on your reports. I’m going to have a little chat with Mr. Faraday.”

Joshua didn’t lose his grin, keeping his eyes on Emma even as he vaguely registered the others’ responses as they walked by, through the glass doors into what looked like the main bullpen. Once the doors were shut behind them, he said, “I prefer Joshua. Mr. Faraday was my father.”

Emma’s grin vanished, replaced by something mixed with concern and seriousness, “Of course. Will Agent, Faraday, or Joshua work?”

Joshua nodded.

“Alright then,” Emma turned, making her way over to peer through the glass doors and into the bullpen. Joshua followed, so that the two were standing side by side just next to the corner of the doorframe, “I don’t make a habit of lying to them, Joshua. They missed you, and I know they would have rather been prepared for arrival, instead of a cold reading on you like you requested.”

“I…” Joshua swallowed, and sighed, “I figured as much. I… missed them, too. Even you, Mrs. Cullen.”

“Emma, please, when it’s just us,” Emma interrupted. She gave him a small smile, “I hope you can meet Matthew soon.”

“Second chances applied to him too, huh?” Josh grinned, “I’m glad for you, then.”

The two were silent for a few moments, watching the team as they joked around, poking and prodding at each other as they settled at their desks or, in Jack and Sam’s cases, mounted the stairs to the landing and into the offices.

“I built this team from the ground up, Faraday. It started with me and Matthew, then Jack, then Sam… and as time went on, we found the others, and the team grew. Few years ago, I got promoted to Sectional Chief, and Matthew decided he wanted to move on to law, became a lawyer, so Sam and Jack took over as head agents of the team and they’ve continued to lead it under my command,” Emma said. She turned her head to stare Joshua down, “And they’re good at what they do. One of the best success rates that the Bureau has. You slip up even once, and they’ll tear you apart before you can say ‘FBI’.”

Joshua laughed darkly, “Well… I’ve always enjoyed a challenge.”

“Of course, you have,” Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. “You’ve changed, Faraday. But then again… in some ways, you haven’t.”

“Comes with the territory, my dear Emma,” Joshua shrugged. “And… I’ll tell them… when I’m ready. But for now, Emma, I’d just… I’d like to be with them, you know?”

“Of course,” Emma smiled, and reached up to pat Joshua’s shoulder, turning away. “Welcome to the team, Agent Faraday. We’re happy to have you.”

Joshua pushed open the glass doors, “Yeah, well, for what it’s worth…” He glanced over his shoulder to give her an impish grin, “I’m happy to be here.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Vasquez's pov and Billy offering advice because he's a good friend.

_“Trust is to human relationships what faith is to gospel living. It is the beginning place, the foundation upon which more can be built. Where trust is, love can flourish.”_ –Barbara Smith

* * *

“Vas, hold the elevator!”

Vasquez reached out quickly, his occupied hand still curled around his coffee cup, to stop the elevator doors from sliding shut. They slid open, and Joshua slipped in, looking as ruffled as a person could at three am on a Saturday morning. Normally, he was in a button-down dress shirt, good jeans, and boots; this time, he was wearing a flannel shirt over a tee with worn looking pants and sneakers. Vasquez had learned in the month since Joshua had begun working at the office, he could get up like the best of them, but it was at the risk of his personal appearance. Such things like eating habits and a sleeping schedule also went out the window in lieu of getting a job done as quickly as possible.

Personally, it made Vasquez’s skin crawl, how Joshua could do it and not be affected. He’d asked on the third case they had, not even two weeks into Joshua’s joining of the team (because apparently serial killers never rested) how it didn’t bug him, and Joshua’s response had been… chilling, to say in the least.

“ _Terrorists never exactly give you the chance to get dolled up. Sometimes you gotta leave behind your life if you want to keep your skin on._ ”

“God, where are we being called to at such an ungodly hour?” Joshua groused, nursing a giant cup of what Vasquez assumed was coffee. Nearly everyone on the team were coffee addicts, save for Billy who stuck to tea through some unknown force that Vasquez was nearly sure he’d sold his soul for.

Still, while being able to move at a moment’s notice was a talent and skill Joshua had apparently nurtured, it didn’t stop him from complaining about it. Especially considering Vasquez was catching a whiff of alcohol.

“Late night?” Vasquez grinned instead, deciding to see how far long Joshua would let him push his buttons.

“You’d know if you had accepted my offer to go out tonight,” Joshua rolled his eyes, then winced and rubbed his eyelids with his index finger and thumb. “I swear to god we’d better have a case in Cali or Florida where there’s bodies piling up left, right, front and center or I’m going to kill Teddy.”

A fair reaction, but…

“It was actually Sam who sent the message, if you’d paid attention _guero_ ,” Vasquez said.

“Whoever it was, I’ll still kill ‘em and make it look like an accident,” Joshua muttered, and took another hearty gulp of his coffee.

“Maybe this will teach you not to drink unless you know you have a more than just the weekend off,” Vasquez snorted. “It’s a good lesson, truth be told, and has happened to each of us at least once since Emma pulled us together.”

Joshua didn’t answer, silent as the elevator continued to rise, dinging lightly as they passed each floor.

“I don’t drink that often,” Joshua said, quietly. “The last time I did so was during a bad time while I was going through physical therapy, and Alena was quick to knock some sense back into me.” He shrugged, “Guess my body thinks I was drunk enough last time that it was enough for two lifetimes.” He paused for a beat, “Plus, there are better coping mechanisms to use this time around than there were last time, too.”

Joshua didn’t talk much about his careers before he joined the team. For a few seconds, Vasquez wavered, debating the pros and cons of how much Joshua was probably willing to say. On one hand, he wasn’t as well rested as he normally was, considering the hour and that he probably hadn’t had much sleep before being called in. He could let something slip, like he already had. On the other hand, that same reason might mean he would turn hostile and shut down, too. It was a fifty-fifty chance.

Vasquez decided to roll the dice.

“You’ve yet to say why you were in physical therapy in the first place, _guero_. What’s the story behind that?” Vasquez asked. He was curious, sure, but there was a fair amount of exasperation and worry mixed in, too. What had happened that Joshua had had to have therapy in the first place? As far as Vasquez knew, and as much as Sam had said, he only knew it was because he’d been shot while on a case with the LAPD.

“I was shot in the back,” Joshua said, voice tight. He rubbed his thumb against the rim of his coffee cup, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully, “Bullet just missed my spine, prevented permanent paralysis, but there was still some nerve damage.” He sighed, “My sister could tell you more, I don’t remember much of the medical mumbo gumbo. Just that it took eight months of therapy for me to get back on my feet and that I was put on desk duty for most of those eight months and two months after it. Passed all the tests needed to re-enter the field, and then Emma swept in and offered me the job here, with you guys.”

That… was far more than Vasquez had been expecting to get. He blinked, staring at the side of Joshua’s face and trying to formulate a response. Before he could, though, the elevator came to a halt and the doors slid open on the twelfth floor.

“Well, let’s see what poor depraved soul has brought us into the office at this godawful hour,” Joshua sighed. He looked over at Vasquez, meeting his gaze, “Do me a favor, Vas? Don’t tell anyone else what I just told you. I’ll talk to the others when I’m ready.”

* * *

Teddy strode into the conference room with a stack of files in his arms, “Yes, hi, hello guys and gals, I’m sorry for the early morning call, but LVPD are calling upon us for help.” He walked past the table and to the screen hung on the far wall, using a remote to bring crime scene images up, “In the last six weeks, there have been three double homicides from the Northern Las Vegas area. All the victims were married couples, no kids, kidnapped on a Sunday night and then found dumped dear I-95 on a Saturday afternoon, two weeks later.”

“So, he sticks to a schedule,” Jack commented. “Are there any connections between the victims?”

“Between the husbands, no, but…” Teddy clicked a button and turned to the screen, as three images of the wives popped up, “The wives on the other hand…”

“Young, brunette, and dark eyes,” Billy observed.

“Well, whoever our UNSUB is certainly has a type, and it looks like he spends more time with the women. They’re probably substitutes for the person who’s really the object of his rage,” Goodnight frowned.

“And just a few hours ago, Daniel and Alexis Rowe were reported missing,” Sam spoke up. Teddy pulled the images of said couple up on screen, “They haven’t been heard from since Sunday morning, when they were last seen leaving church to return home. When cops showed up at their house for a wellness check, they discovered the back door busted in and the home trashed.”

“Is that the same for all the other victims?” Red asked.

“Yes,” Teddy sighed. “The other victims’ homes had been broken into through the back door and the house also trashed.”

“Today is Saturday,” Vasquez commented. “And we’re just now being called in?”

“That’s another thing that links all the victims,” Teddy said. “Every couple was private, didn’t socialize much with other people, mainly because they were all too busy with their jobs. Only people the did speak freely with were their coworkers or close family. Not very many friends to speak of.”

“Great,” Jaqueline grumped, sipping a cup of coffee. “Which means they’re probably not going to have much of an online presence.”

“You know, if his rage is directed just to the women, why kidnap the men too? Wouldn’t that make it harder to control them?” Joshua asked.

“The husbands must play into some sort of fantasy we aren’t privy to yet,” Sam said. “At any rate, we have a couple missing and just over a week to find them. We’ll know more when we get there. Wheels up in forty.”

* * *

“I thought the crime scene reports said the home was broken into?” Joshua’s voice carried through the kitchen, from the back patio, “This lock’s been picked, and there’s no damage to the doorframe or footprints on the door to indicate that it was busted in. Glass isn’t shattered, either.”

“Either way, _guero_ , someone that wasn’t supposed to got inside the house,” Vasquez replied as Joshua’s footsteps approached the living room. “The back door is furthest distance from the bedroom upstairs. Why not go for the front door? It’s closer to the stairway, faster to get to the Rowe’s.”

“It’s also in plain sight of security lights and the street is busy, even at night. Even if the Rowe’s were private people, anyone passing by would have noticed a person on the porch trying to break in,” Joshua mused, walking into the room with a file in hand. “Back door is the safer bet if he wants to go unnoticed.”

“And no security system. Just a locked door, not even a guard dog. Suspect had to have known about that,” Vasquez said. “Private people and minimalistic. What were their jobs?”

“Uh, according to what Jaqueline dug up on them… David’s a doctor, worked a lot of overtime, and Alexis is a real estate agent, does a lot of traveling around the state. Neither of them were home that often,” Joshua glanced down at the papers he was holding. “Well to do but they sure didn’t show it. Successful at their jobs, but not home enough to make it feel lived in. It’s a wonder they found any time for each other.” Joshua’s voice turned a bit nostalgic as he spoke, “Not like most of the people I knew when I was living here.”

Vasquez, halfway towards the front hallway, came to a dead halt as he processed the words. He turned, giving Joshua’s back a suspicious look, “You lived in Vegas, _guero_?”

“High school, freshman through junior year,” Joshua answered from the dining room, voice distant. His tone changed, serious and down to business, “You know, from the layer of dust on this table, I’m going to wager a guess that these guys didn’t have a lot of people over for dinner.”

Vasquez blinked, mouth gaping like a fish. On one hand, questions were burning on the tip of his tongue, but on the other, Joshua’s tone of voice said to drop the subject. Vasquez wavered for a few second longer, before shaking his head.

Right, Joshua was right; they had a job to do. Walk through the crime scenes, as Sam had ordered, and see if there were any similarities in the homes like there were in the victims. Joshua was clearly not willing to talk much about his past, something in his nature keeping him from doing so, but the more information that he unconsciously dropped, the more curious Vasquez got.

Vasquez knew enough about himself that it was a disaster waiting to happen.

* * *

“You’ve been acting strange since we took this case,”

Vasquez jumped, startled, as Billy came up beside him. Both had broken away from the rest of the team to grab coffee, while the others stayed behind at the station to continue working the case. For Vasquez, it was a welcome break, though he’d been a bit surprised when Billy had volunteered to come with him.

Now, though, he found himself realizing it’d been because Billy had wanted to get him alone, given the look in the other man’s eyes. Still, he decided to play dumb.

“What do you mean, _chino_?” Vasquez asked, dropping the change the barista handed to him into the tip jar at the counter; the overworked girl smiled gratefully at him as she got to work on the coffee order.

Billy gave him a look, “One, I’m Korean, same as you not being a Texican. Two, are you really going to try and change the subject?”

Fair enough. Being surrounded by profilers who were also your closest friends in two different lives could be a pain, though.

“It’s Joshua,” Vasquez sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he and Billy moved aside to allow the line to keep moving.

Billy just raised an eyebrow. When Vasquez offered nothing further, he asked, “What about Joshua? Is he being more difficult than normal?”

“He’s not difficult, he’s cagey,” Vasquez shot back.

“Is he?”

“Look me in the eye and say you haven’t been profiling him since he started working with us, _cabron_ ,”

Billy shrugged, saying more in the action than with words, “Comes with the job. It’s not exactly something people like us can just turn off.” Billy frowned, “He’s… suspicious, hides a part of himself. I’d guess he has some sort of past he’s not all too proud of and doesn’t want us to know about.”

Vasquez nodded, “He’s been dropping more information in the last few days about himself than he has in the month we’ve known him.”

Billy tilted his head, processing the words. After a moment, he asked, “I’ve not noticed anything. Does he only do it when you two are alone?”

Vasquez drew up short at the question, considering all the moments in the last few days that the instances had happened. Now that he thought about it, it had been just the two of them whenever Joshua dropped little morsels of information about himself.

“Are you saying he’s… doing it on purpose?”

“It’d make sense, wouldn’t it?” Billy replied, “You two worked well together the last time you knew each other, watched each other’s backs at the Rose Creek shootout. Not to mention, anyone with eyes and ears could have sensed you two could have been more than friends if Faraday hadn’t…” At Vasquez’s sudden disapproving look, he ended hastily, “Well, you know.”

“We weren’t that obvious,” Vasquez said.

Billy gave him a ‘really?’ look; Vasquez scowled, “We weren’t.”

“You were, but whatever helps you sleep at night,” Billy relented. “You’re heading in that direction, now.”

Vasquez fought the urge to snap at the other man. Instead, in the flattest voice he could manage, he said, “Goody has worn off on you, _mi amigo_. You’re sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.”

“Would you rather be having this conversation with Goody?”

“ _Dios mio_ , **_no_** ,” Vasquez hissed.

“Thought so,” Billy smirked.

“Vasquez!” The barista’s voice carried over to the two men, snapping them from their conversation.

Vasquez quickly gathered up the two trays of coffee, handing one to Billy as they walked out of the building and back into the sweltering heat of Vegas mid-day sun. Vasquez slipped his sunglasses back down on to his nose. They were thankfully only a few blocks away from the station, so it wouldn’t be long until they were back into the cool.

“You know Joshua lived in Vegas while he was in high school?” Vasquez asked, idly.

Billy’s eyebrow went up, but he scoffed and shook his head, “Why does that not surprise me? Of course, he’d find a time to visit Vegas, with his habits.”

“Nor does he drink like he did,” Vasquez continued. At Billy’s bewildered look, he shrugged, “Surprised me too. He mentioned it on Saturday morning on the way in to review the case.”

“… Didn’t he ask you if you wanted to go out with him on Friday afternoon?”

“You phrase it like that, and it sounds like he asked me out on a date,”

“Listen, from my standpoint, Vas,” Billy sighed. “It sounds like Faraday’s reaching out. It’s small stuff, drinks and conversation, but he clearly wants some type of connection. He’s not done the same with any of the rest of us, not that I’ve noticed or heard. Clearly, you mean something to him.”

Vasquez frowned thoughtfully, “Every time I try to bring up something he says, though, he changes the subject.”

“Every time?”

Saturday morning popped into Vasquez’s mind, how Faraday had offered more when Vasquez had asked. The first day Faraday had been on the job, when he’d dropped the bombshell on his being fluent in several languages.

“… Okay, so maybe not all the time,” Vasquez sighed. “More times than not, though.”

“But he’s reaching out,” Billy repeated. “He’s looking for some type of connection, something he can latch on to.”

“But why me?”

“Because he trusts you. Weather that’s because of your past history or not, I don’t know. But you just got to go with what Joshua gives you, Vas, and be there for him. Who knows when the last time he had anyone who he could trust to tell anything?”

Vasquez was silent for a few moments, mulling over Billy’s words.

“Shouldn’t that be a therapist’s job?” Vasquez grumbled as they walked into the police station. The inside was a blessed relief to the outside, Vasquez letting out a breath as he slid his sunglasses off and hooked them into the collar of his shirt.

“Do you really see Joshua paying someone to get in his head and tell him how he feels?”

“… Fair point,” Vasquez sighed. “So, what do you think—"

“Vas!” Joshua’s voice interrupted Vasquez’s question. Vasquez looked up in time to see Joshua striding over, “Great, you’re back. We got a lead on the case.”

“Great,” Billy said. “Connection between the victims?”

“No, someone who probably knows our UNSUB. Woman named Rebecca Oxen, she fits the profile of the other women who’ve been killed,” Joshua replied. “Vas, you get my coffee order right this time?”

“Extra-large dark roast, strong, with extra cinnamon,” Vasquez sighed, handing over said cup of coffee over to Joshua.

“Godsend,” Joshua breathed, and promptly gulped down half of it.

“Inhuman,” Red said as he approached the trio. Vasquez handed the younger man’s own coffee order, and Red took it with a single nod, “Sam and Goody already left to go see Oxen.”

“We were gone for maybe twenty minutes,” Vasquez frowned. “I did not just pay for Goodnight’s coffee only for him to come back when it’s cold and for him to complain.”

“Let him,” Billy said. “It’ll be his fault.”

“Brutal,” Joshua commented. He grinned, “I like it.”

* * *

Finding Rebecca Oxen spurred the case into overdrive. Oxen managed to lead them directly to their UNSUB, her ex-boyfriend Jacob Carlton, and because of that Jaqueline was able to track down the warehouse he’d been holding the Rowe’s in via records keeping.

“Classic case of seeing something he can’t have and deciding to go after it in a fit of rage,” Goodnight commented as they packed the files away. “At any rate, bad guy’s going to prison and we managed to save anyone else from being hurt.”

“Still… six people are dead,” Joshua said, quietly. “Innocent lives that got cut short just because a guy couldn’t handle rejection.”

“No one said this job was easy, _guero_ ,” Vasquez nudged his shoulder against Joshua’s own. “You knew what you were getting into when you took this job, right?”

“…Yeah,” Joshua murmured. “Just…” He glanced over his shoulder, at where Teddy and Red were taking down pictures of the victims from the murder board, and something in his expression turned… guilty, almost.

“Just what?” Vasquez asked, gently. When Joshua didn’t immediately offer, Vasquez pressed lightly, “Joshua, what is it?”

“… Nothing,” Joshua shook his head, turning back to packing the files away into his bag. “Forget I said anything.”

Puzzled, Vasquez tilted his head, but when Joshua gave him a short look, one that clearly said: ‘ _drop it_ ’, Vasquez shrugged and stepped to the side, giving the other man his space.

Sam walked into the conference room at that moment, hanging up his phone from whoever he’d been speaking with.

“It’s late, boys. I think after the last few days, it’d do us all some good to get a good night’s rest before flying back to Quantico,” Sam said.

“Sweet,” Joshua grinned, and turned his attention over to Vasquez again. “You up to going out for drinks?”

Vasquez paused, considering the offer. He looked across the table, sharing a glance with Billy, and then shrugged and looked over at Joshua, “You know what, _guero_? Why not?”

* * *

_Famous last words_ , Vasquez thought the next morning.

“C’mon baby, c’mon!” Teddy laughed, pulling at the lever to one of the slot machines, “You know these things are rigged, right?”

“Teddy, Ted, _por favor_ ,” Vasquez grimaced, turning away from a nearby coffee stand with a cup in hand.

“Sorry, man,” Teddy grinned, turning away from the machine and jumping to his feet.

Vasquez dropped on to the sofa that Joshua was also sitting on, leaning heavily on the opposite armrest with a groan. Joshua himself had his sunglasses on and head leant against the back of the couch, more than likely dead to the world.

“Late night?” Billy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“ _I hate Vegas_ ,” Vasquez swore in Spanish.

“How can you hate Vegas? It’s a grown folk’s playground,” Joshua said, sitting up with a wince.

Goodnight blinked, “You know Spanish, Joshua?”

“Did you try to outdrink Joshua?” Billy smirked.

“Yes,”

“No,”

“Which question were you answering?”

“Yes,” Vasquez deadpanned. He received twin unimpressed looks for his effort, and he took a gulp of his coffee instead of elaborating.

“Give me some of that,” Joshua reached over and grabbed at Vasquez’s coffee.

“Get your own, you bastard,” Vasquez hissed, shoving his hand into Joshua’s face and pushing him away. “It’s your fault I’m hungover anyways.”

“You didn’t have to say yes, you know,” Joshua shot right back. “Come on, Vas, just a sip!”

“I said no,” Vasquez held the cup out of reach, growling when Joshua outstretched his arm to try and grab it out of Vasquez’s grip. “Joshua, I swear you’re acting like a child—”

“You both are,” Red’s voice came from over the two of them, wrestling on the couch, and suddenly, the coffee was gone from Vasquez’s hand and Red was drinking from it. He raised an eyebrow when both of them looked up at him, “Well, you are.”

“Jackass,” Joshua said, without much heat.

“ _Cabron_ ,” Vasquez rolled his eyes, then instantly regretted it. He slumped against the couch with a groan and closed his eyes, “Dammit Joshua, I am never drinking with you again. I thought you said you don’t drink that much anymore.”

“No, I said I don’t drink that often, not that I don’t drink a lot when I do drink,” Joshua replied, and let his head fall on Vasquez’s chest, apparently content with slumping against the other man instead of sitting up. “There’s a difference.”

Vasquez didn’t answer, throwing his arm over his eyes in an attempt to shield them from the sunlight streaming through the lobby windows, and the florescent lights overhead.

“… What’s wrong with Vasquez and Faraday?” A few moments later, Chisolm’s voice reached Vasquez’s ears. There was a beat, and then Sam sighed, laughter in his voice as he said, “Ah. That explains it. Well, boys, this is what you get when you decide to go drinking the night before an early morning.”

“Fuck off, Chisolm,” Joshua groaned, voice muffled in Vasquez’s chest.

“Sorry, son, but our flight leaves in thirty minutes,” Sam replied. “Come on, you two. You can sleep on the plane.”

Vasquez muttered under his breath, half Spanish, half English, but all with the tone of a man who’d been done a great offense, but nonetheless began pushing at Joshua, “C’mon, _guero_ , up.”

“Vas…” Joshua whined, “No…”

“Up,” Vasquez commanded. “Sam’s right. It’s a four-and-a-half-hour flight from here back to Virginia. We can sleep on the plane.”

“Fine…” Joshua grumbled, finally sitting up and grabbing his bag at his feet. “Room’s spinning.”

“It’s what happens when you drink like a fiend,” Red commented.

Joshua pointed at him, turning his head slowly in Red’s direction as he stood, “Don’t you dare start, you little shit.”

Red smirked, and nearby, Sam sighed in exasperation. Vasquez finally found the energy to sit and stand up himself.

“Come on now, gentlemen, let’s not dawdle any longer,” Horne said, with the air of a man who had the patience of a saint. Given that he had three kids, two of which were teenagers and the third a pre-teen, Vasquez figured the assessment wasn’t too far off.

The idea of stretching out on one of the couches on the jet and catching a few hours of much needed sleep was more alluring than trying to argue with anyone.

* * *

Joshua’s apartment door swung open, the man himself looking surprised at seeing Vasquez on his doorstep. Before he could say a word, Vasquez held Joshua’s phone up, deadpan, “You forgot this at the office.”

“Shit,” Joshua swore, quietly. “I didn’t even notice—”

“And your sister has been calling for the last hour. She finally switched over to blowing your phone up with texts,” Vasquez interrupted.

Joshua, with his phone now in hand, froze, and then slowly looked up to eye Vasquez suspiciously, “And you didn’t answer any of her calls?”

“Why would I have? You’re lucky I stayed late to catch up on paperwork,” Vasquez rolled his eyes.

Joshua’s phone lit up with another message, his face taking on a blue hue from the screen; Joshua’s gaze flicked down to the device in hand, and something like… reluctant agreement, crossed his face. He swiped the device open and began forming a reply.

Vasquez shifted on his feet, then coughed and made to walk away, “Well, I’m going to get going, _guero_. I just wanted to get your phone back to you—”

“Wait,” Joshua reached out, grabbing Vasquez’s arm, gaze still locked on his phone as he finished his typing one handed. He clicked the power button, the faint clicking sound of his phone locking reaching Vasquez’s ears as Joshua finally looked up, “Can you come inside for a minute?”

“I really do need to get—” Vasquez began.

“No, I—” Joshua sighed and released Vasquez’s arm to rub the back of his neck, looking suddenly very vulnerable, something Vasquez hadn’t once seen on Joshua in this life or the last. It was the look that had him hesitating, but then Joshua asked, quietly, “ _Will_ you come inside for a minute?”

… Well.

“Sure,” Vasquez replied, just as quietly. “Is everything alright?”

Joshua laughed, a dark and bitter sound, as he turned and walked deeper into his apartment. Vasquez followed, shutting the door behind him as he did.

“Depends on your definition of ‘alright’, I guess,” Joshua called from the kitchen. He set his phone down on the kitchen counter with a clatter. He sat down in a high stool, heavily, elbows on the counter and taking his head in his hands, “I’ve not been alright in _years_ , Vas.”

“What are you talking about, Joshua?” Vasquez asked, moving closer. He pulled a second stool out on the opposite side of the counter and dropped on it.

Joshua didn’t answer, not immediately, but then he looked up slowly to eye Vasquez, “Anything that gets spoken in this room, doesn’t leave this room, you got it?”

Vasquez had the sudden, intense feeling that he was making a deal he really ought not to…

Well. Curiosity killed the cat…

“Sure thing, _guero_. Whatever you say,” Vasquez agreed.

But satisfaction brought it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Goodnight!


End file.
